Palace Politics
by Lady Asvin
Summary: Companion to Happily Ever Aftermath: "I don't know what I'm doing... I want to see you smile... I want to see that flash of determination on your face when you're facing something that looks impossible," he said. Read&review.
1. Scattered

_Disclaimer: _I _do not _own Avatar, its characters, designs etc. Those are © Mike and Bryan, and Nickelodeon. Yun Zi, Mistress Choi, and other original characters are © me, Lady Asvin.

-

The war charts bored him endlessly. He had _fought_ in the war, and was in the unique position that he knew what had occurred on both sides. _I'm going to join the Avatar. And I'm going to help him defeat you_. He had _been_ there. The maps swirled before him, and he almost pitched face-first into the navigation table but for a clerk's polite interruption.

"Beg pardon, your highness," said the old man. "A letter, from _toushi_ Hakoda of the Water Tribe." Brushing aside some papers, a silk-robed hand reached for the scroll.

"Thank you," he intoned in his rusty voice. He was rather surprised it still worked; he had been holed up in the study for days with his research. The clerk bowed and disappeared, and the scroll fell open.

_Imperial Majesty,_ began the letter._ I have been informed that my daughter now resides in apartments in your palace, and wished to question why that decision was made; a father's concern. _Why he writing to _me_? thought Zuko. _Also, you will find enclosed the terms of agreement for trade between the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation. Your attention in a timely fashion will prove beneficial._

_Hakoda of the Water Tribe, South Pole_

Another, smaller scroll fell out of the first one, but Zuko didn't read it right away. _A father's concern_. He smiled as he thought of long, silky brown hair, perfumed with some exotic mélange of jasmine and black rose. Blue eyes that never needed makeup; tailored robes, silk – blue and white, silver embroidery. She was a true ambassador for her Tribe. A sudden unwelcome image shoved its way to the forefront of his thoughts: he saw himself flying halfway across the training sand, caught on the wrong end of a water whip. He coughed. _Oh, that. She can own me in a fight if I'm not paying attention._ Another light knock broke into his reverie; the same clerk, asking if he was ready for the next map. Zuko groaned inwardly and stood.

"Actually, Yun Zi, I'd like a word with the Water Tribe ambassador. Please see if she is available." The man nodded and made his way back out; Zuko sighed. _Now where did that other scroll go?_ He had just placed an onyx paperweight on the table to hold the scroll when a floating jasmine scent pervaded his senses.

"Hi, Zuko." No _Imperial Majesty_ from her. "Your clerk said you needed a word?" He nodded and motioned to a chaise across from the map-covered table.

"Your father has just sent me the revised terms of trade for your Tribe." Katara perked up and ignored the chaise to stand next to him and study the scroll. Zuko cleared his throat. "He also wants to know why you're living in the Palace now, instead of in the city apartments." At that, she frowned.

"I'm not a _child_ anymore," she muttered. "But I'll write to him." A delicate brown finger ran down the list of trade items; dark eyebrows flew up.

"_Nanuk_? The Fire Nation wants bear meat?" Zuko looked over to where she was pointing.

"Two tons of it a year, by the looks of the agreement," he said dryly. "I had the commerce clerks draw up the initial terms." Katara snorted.

"All right then, Sifu Hotman." She finished looking at the scroll and then rolled it back up. "The terms seem reasonable, and they're not trying to trick you with the products." She nodded firmly. "Send the final drafts to me when they are drawn up. I will sign them as soon as I see them." A call from the outer doors of the study floated to them; Katara wrinkled her nose and made a face so comical, Zuko fought not to smile.

"What?" he asked, struggling to keep his serious expression intact. Katara looked toward the door.

"Are you sure you don't want me for anything else right now?" she asked. Ill-chosen words. _I want to see you smile like the day the twins were born, and I want to see that flash of determination on your face when you're facing something that looks impossible._"The royal seamstress is nice, but she's been chasing me down all day to stick me with pins and call it dressmaking." Katara sighed. "It's that anniversary party your uncle has planned," she added by way of clarification. Zuko groaned; once Katara was measured, it would be his turn… and Katara was not exaggerating about the pins. She was talking again.

"…and my dance card is filled. Honestly, what kind of a tradition is-"

"Your _what_? _Filled_?" Zuko's voice was so incredulous, Katara's skin prickled. The room became uncomfortably hot as her eyes narrowed into chips of ice.

"What?" she asked shrilly. "Was _His Majesty_ the _Fire Lord_ not expecting that?" Her entire posture rapidly turned into a defensive one: step back, arms crossed, glare. Zuko forced down the bubble of questions that threatened to spill from his throat.

"That's – that's not what I meant," he defended himself feebly. "Don't – come _on_, Katara, you know that didn't come out right," he called, as she began to walk away. She reached the door and turned to look at him.

"Then what _did_ you mean, Your Highness?" Her voice was barely a whisper, and Zuko could detect suppressed rage underneath the flat surface of her demeanor. He attempted to run a hand through his hair; for at least the second time that week, his coronet fell clanging to the ground as his topknot became a hawk's nest of a mess. _Terrible habit, _he thought. Katara sighed from her position by the door.

"You are inept, did you know that?" She reached for the coronet and rejoined Zuko behind his desk.

"You never miss a chance to tell me," he muttered. Katara disregarded him as she pulled the rest of his hair down and yanked an onyx comb from her _obi_. Zuko's eyes widened.

"Is that the comb I gave you after my coronation?" Katara nodded, and then realized that his face was covered in jet-black hair.

"Yes. Why?" she asked. "Don't move your head." She picked his hair up carefully, with the skill of a woman who had spent her life running after children younger than her. _From behind a hut, about twenty feet to Aang's left, mismatched gold eyes also watched the girl walk away, for all the world like a model of maternal grace with a small child in her arms._

"I don't know," he replied. "I guess I thought you had left it at the South Pole." Katara moved to face him.

"Why would I do that? It's useful." She tucked the comb back into her robes. "There." Zuko nodded his thanks and turned back to the endless maps; outside the door, he could hear Yun Zi and the seamstress, Mistress Choi, discussing the upcoming party. Suddenly, the parchment before his eyes was replaced by an outspread brown hand.

"Not so fast, Sifu Hotman," said Katara. "You still haven't answered my question." His face grew hot and he began to stutter, but Katara was like a shirshiu with a strong scent. Luckily for him, the door opened at that moment to reveal Mistress Choi and a small army of servant girls.

"Your Highness. Ambassador Katara," said the woman, bowing deeply. She brought with her a heavy smell of spices and old silk, and wore enough eye paint to decorate the Kyoshi warriors for a month. "I regret to have interrupted the, ah, important state decisions being made, but General Iroh wishes to learn that your garments are being made." _Uncle. Of course_, thought Zuko. Katara's mind ran a similar path. Mistress Choi took a deep breath. "I have found it quite impossible to capture a spare moment from either of you, but Yun Zi alerted me that you were both here. Your Majesty," she added by way of apology. Zuko glared at the old clerk, who had made his way to the door and stood, facial muscles twitching, watching the comedy unfold. Katara forced a smile to her lips.

"I am sorry, Mistress Choi," she said prettily. "Would you like me to go to my chambers?" The woman, wary of Katara's many "innocent" escape attempts, shook her head.

"If it pleases Your Majesty, I will have a screen set up here to I can finish both sets of measurements at once." Zuko nodded a tiny, unwilling nod. Mistress Choi's servant girls, prepared, stretched a wooden frame across the center of the study. Unbleached rice paper was draped over the frame, and all of a sudden Mistress Choi was ordering the teenagers to strip.

"I only want the underclothes you intend to be wearing the night of the affair," she said cheerily. "Everything else goes!" Two sets of cheeks very nearly burned holes through either side of the screen. Mistress Choi had just begun to measure Katara when a loud explosion shook the Palace walls.

"Dear gods!" she shrieked, and crouched low to the ground, covered in measuring string. Her servant girls ran confusedly around the room, asking the woman what to do. Another explosion rattled Zuko's desk; on the far side of the study, a ceremonial black steel sword crashed free of its wall mounting. Zuko fought his way into his pants; not bothering with a shirt, he ran out into the hallway until he met with a guard.

"Guard. Report," he commanded tersely, and the woman's expression went sheepish.

"Your Highness," said the soldier, trying not to notice that the Fire Lord was running about the palace shirtless. "Your uncle has commenced testing the fireworks he purchased for the upcoming anniversary feast." Zuko gritted his teeth.

"Thank you, soldier," he said.

"Your humble servant," replied the woman, and resumed her patrol of the Palace halls. The firebender made his way, fuming, back to the study. He met Katara, at the door, struggling to fight her way past Mistress Choi.

"It's not – _decent_ – Ambassador, you are only wearing-"

"It's uncle," said the Fire Lord. Both women turned to look at Zuko.

"What's wrong with General Iroh?" asked Katara. Zuko shook his head.

"Nothing's _wrong_ with him. He's playing with fireworks," said the firebender. To Mistress Choi, he said, "Let's finish this as quickly as possible. I have work to finish." Katara made a noise deep in her throat; Zuko was never that rude with anyone, and she didn't think there was a reason to start now. The Fire Lord pressed his eyes closed and touched his scar. "I am sorry, Mistress Choi," he said, but the woman, scared witless by the explosions, merely nodded dumbly. Katara shot Zuko a look that said, quite clearly, _I will talk to you later_; grabbing Mistress Choi's arm, she returned to the side of the screen where she had been undressing. Zuko followed, more slowly. He gazed at the table and its piles of maps and charts; _I don't even remember what I was doing anymore,_ he thought, frustrated.

"Your highness? Your Imperial Majesty?" someone was calling for his attention; he turned around and noticed Katara's silhouette on the other side of the screen. She seemed to be dressing; who had been calling him?

"If I may, Your Highness," said Mistress Choi, and promptly attacked with pins and string. He followed orders: _arms up, arms down, back straight – right, now for the feast robe_. Suddenly, the world around him exploded into fragments of color and sound. The seamstress dove under his map table, her girls scrambling to find some cover. A yelp reached his ears; the heavy wooden frame of the Mistress Choi's screen had crashed down on Katara, burying her under ripped rice paper and the robes she had been putting on. Zuko attempted to pick up the screen and his pants at the same time; his fingers slipped, letting the heavy frame crash back down on Katara. He winced. Another muffled yelp, but this time, he had his pants on so he wouldn't trip.

"Hold on Katara!" Grunting, he picked up the screen and dragged it away from the trembling mass of girl that was Katara. _No wonder it took six servants to move this_, he thought distractedly, and dropped it heavily on the other side of the study. He turned back, and noticed that Katara was holding her leg – it stuck out at an odd angle from her hips. _Hips?_ Zuko realized then that the girl was wearing only her wraps. His cheeks flooded with heat, but Katara was almost crying; he had to help her. The explosions had stopped for a moment, but he had no sooner thought it than he was flying across the room, smashing his head against a metal chest.

"Thahurt," he slurred, and everything went out of focus. Warm hands tapped his face.

"Zuko? Zuko?" Brown face, blue eyes: why did she look so worried? "Zuko, Yun Zi said one of the boxes of fireworks went out of control," she said. The voice seemed disembodied to him, as though it were coming from a ventriloquist's dummy. "Zuko, come _on_!" She slapped him, hard. He tried to focus for a moment; Katara, biting her lip against the pain of her leg, was nearly straddling him to get him awake. Another explosion; she was in his lap, now. _She smells good,_ he thought distantly, giddily, but suddenly the world was all too clear.

"I didn't think this was what you meant by work, Zuzu."

Gold eyes slanted toward him. _Mai… what do you want from me?_

The world went black.


	2. Seconds

_Disclaimer: _I _do not _own Avatar, its characters, designs etc. Those are © Mike and Bryan, and Nickelodeon. Yun Zi, Mistress Choi, and other original characters are © me, Lady Asvin.

-

_What are you doing?_

_Saving the jerk that dumped me._

_You miscalculated: I love Zuko more than I fear you._

_My uncle pulled some strings._

Mai turned stiffly and walked. She had no idea where she was going; her only purpose was to lose herself, rid herself of the sight – were the rumors true? _Gods, but that trip was terrible_, she thought despite herself. A true noblewoman never showed her feelings. She turned abruptly into a room and slammed the door behind her, only to discover that the room was serving an ulterior purpose.

"Get out," said Mai flatly, as the groom struggled to pull on his pants and the maid yanked down her tunic. They bowed stumblingly as they went, and Mai was left alone in the dark, silent chamber. She found a bench and sat, putting two delicate fingers to her pounding temples. The last encounter she'd had with the Fire Lord rang clear in her mind.

-

_Six months earlier._

-

_"Lady Mai, the Fire Lord has requested your presence in the drawing room of the palace. Shall I escort you?" The girl turned her thin face up to meet her chaperon's gaze._

_"Not necessary, Xue Bao. I am perfectly capable." The old woman's cheeks burned in shame as she bowed slowly and backed out of the room._

_"Beg pardon, Lady Mai," she said and disappeared. Mai lifted herself off the bed; every movement seemed to take twice its usual effort. The hallway stretched and yawned ahead of her, but she reached the drawing room in due time. The door swung open._

_"Oh – I'm sorry, Lady Mai," said the girl. That waterbending girl, what was her name? Kiana? Kira?_

_"Katara?" called a voice from the drawing room. May froze; it was the Fire Lord. Katara turned around._

_"Hm?" _She addresses him so informally_, thought Mai savagely. _Peasant.

_"I'll need to speak to you later about the trade agreement," said Zuko's disembodied voice._

_"Sure," said the waterbender agreeably. "Just send someone to find me. Minh Po Lodging house." Mai smirked. A _lodging house_? The waterbender bowed and walked off, leaving Mai alone behind the door._

_"Mai, you can come in. Please close the door." The girl obliged. The Fire Lord gestured to a chair._

_"You can sit if you want." The girl ignored him and walked behind his desk, sitting on the corner closest to him. She leaned down to kiss him, but he turned away. The atmosphere in the room changed sharply; watery gold eyes narrowed._

_"Why did you call me?" she asked, relegating her embarrassment to some deep compartment within her mind. Zuko shifted uncomfortably._

_"I need a favor of you," he said slowly. Had Toph been present, she would have been stir-crazy with the frequency and strength of the vibrations coming from the Fire Lord. "I need – I need you to, uh, go on a political tour for me." The lie came easier as Zuko slid into it. "As the Fire Lord's consort, it would bring goodwill to the people if you went around to the various villages of the Far West of the Fire Nation. To visit with their leaders, and hear their complaints." Mai looked surprised, but nodded slowly._

_"As your consort. I see." She stood. "Send the itinerary to Xue Bao. When do I depart?" Zuko coughed._

_"Tonight." Mai turned to look at him._

_"Will you see me off?"_

_"I have a lot of work to do, Mai. I will see that you are well escorted." Mai had the unpleasant urge to scream and throw things: I don't care who's _escorting_ me!_ _I want _you_ to see me off! Instead, she turned in a flurry of robes and left. _

-

_Present._

-

The bench was uncomfortable, and Mai was beginning to get cold; she could not even begin to guess how much time had passed. She stood and stretched slightly, then walked out. A hallway disappeared to her left; absently she followed it, preoccupied with her thoughts. The hallway ended in a large balcony, open but for two pillars and the iron scrollwork railing. Leaning her elbows on the railing, Mai could hear voices floating up from the training grounds below.

"I'm going to _kill_ uncle! I can't believe he would put me in such a position, with _Mai_ of all people-" the voice was tense and clipped.

"You know he didn't do it on purpose, Zuko!" Mai's face went stone-still. It was that girl again. Would she never get rid of her?

"I know he didn't mean it, I just – it was – I don't know, Mai didn't need to see that!" The girl leaned farther over the railing; despite herself, she was interested. Zuko came around the corner; she saw him panting as he ran, saw the waterbender following.

"Zuko, stop!" He stopped. Mai's eyes widened as he looked up toward the railing; she quickly hid herself behind the nearest stone pillar. "Thank you. I was not about to chase you all day." Both figures halted, hands on their knees, and took a breath.

"I just don't want Mai to think-"

"You don't want her to think _what_, Zuko?" interjected the waterbender. She moved to put a hand on his shoulder. "If it was an accident, then you should have nothing to worry about." Zuko straightened; his voice was husky.

"But those rumors…" he trailed off. Katara put her hands on her hips.

"What rumors? The ones that we're 'secret lovers'? The ones where people are wondering if we've lived a lie all these years?" she demanded. "Well let me tell you something, _Your Imperial Highness_, you're on the main stage now. You're going to get rumors from all sides, and you need to learn how to take care of them." Her voice softened. "Besides. If there was something going on, you would have to worry. But there isn't." Zuko stiffened and clenched his fists. _Because I'm selfish… I want to see you smile._

"Katara," he began in a low voice, "don't say that." Blue eyes widened.

"I- what?"

"Stop it," he growled. "Did you think I was kidding when I said I wanted to try and take care of you?" He advanced toward her, aura red with frustration.

"Zuko-"

"Don't. I was serious – _am_ serious, Katara." He backed her to an external wall. "I don't understand why it's so hard for you to let me try." He paused a moment to think; his voice came rougher now, as he tried to calm down. "I can't- I don't know how to do this," he tried to explain. "It's hard. You're so independent, and I'm just- we're just- kids, Katara. The war made us grow up a little, but we're still kids. And I don't know how to take care of you. I really don't. You said it yourself before – it must be because I'm Fire Nation."

From her perch high above, Mai could hear each word with piercing clarity; if she kept her eyes closed hard enough, she could see the little bits of her heart breaking with each syllable. Her hope for a secure place in the Fire Nation royal family waned; she slid down the pillar slowly, meeting its molded bottom with a light "_thwth_" of robes. _I guess I just want to be taken care of… And it would be nice to be taken care of by someone you don't hate._ Below, Katara hung her head.

"I didn't mean that, you know." Even pinned beneath him, she kept her calm. "I'm just used to taking care of myself." Zuko remained leaning against the wall, at a loss for words.

"But what did you mean 'If it was an accident?' What if it hadn't been an accident?" From the balcony, Mai decided she'd heard enough. She crawled away through the arch that had led her to the balcony; _very undignified for a noblewoman._ She stood as soon as a wall blocked the view from the training grounds, and ran to the front of the palace, demanding a palanquin and her chaperon. It was time to visit her family. Back at the training yards, however, the tension steadily mounted.

"Zuko, don't do this to yourself." _Don't do this to me._

"I meant what I said in those stables, Katara." _Don't you know what you do to me?_

His presence bore down on her like a mismanaged marriage on a young couple. They were standing on a wire now, a wire that stretched painfully as the conversation progressed. Katara opened her mouth to say something, but her throat had stopped working; all that came out was a rasping breath that only heightened the pressure on both the teenagers' senses.

"Do you trust me?" whispered the Fire Lord, his breath hot on Katara's ear. _I was the first one to trust you._

"Y- yes," choked out the girl. He grabbed her hand.

"Then come with me." He took off running, still holding her hand; she was forced to keep up as they flew through the training courtyards, through a gate, under a balcony, through a latticed pavilion – her senses were bombarded with sights and sounds she would never have experienced at home. Mentally, she thanked whatever spirit had posessed her to leave home-

Zuko stopped.

"Oomph," said Katara, as she tripped over herself, crashing into his back. Zuko steadied her as she took in her new surroundings. Plum blossoms cascaded down from venerable old trees; a low, crumbling wall, turned pink with age, ran her entire left field of vision. Thick green ivy covered the tiles topping decorative lanterns spaced evenly along the wall. A gurgling sound caught Katara's attention.

"So _that's_ what I felt," she breathed in awe. Behind a shower of bamboo sprouts was a pond full of beautiful giant koi carp; on the far side of the pond, a small mountain of rocks emitted streams of water from tiny carved-in pagodas. "This is…" Katara couldn't finish her sentence. She kneeled to dabble her fingers in the pond, laughing softly when a fish attempted to nibble on her fingernail. She turned her luminous blue eyes to Zuko, who had remained standing. He experienced a minor heart attack when she did so, taking a sharp breath to calm himself.

"I – I thought you might like it," he said lamely. Katara smiled brilliantly; her mood had improved tenfold for being united with her element.

"It's beautiful," she said honestly. Rolling up the sleeves of her silk robes, she drew a large bubble of water out of the pond; it took Zuko a moment to notice that two carp were swimming around happily within it. Before his eyes, she transformed the bubble into a solid tube of water, with swirling, frothing waves cascading down around it and getting sucked back into the tube. The carp swam around each other, long tails intertwining as they circled.

"Something you learned during the war?" quipped Zuko, unexpectedly touched by the sight. Katara smiled and bent the water and fish back into the pond.

"I needed something to keep me entertained," she replied, rolling her sleeves back down. On impulse, Zuko caught her wrist and twisted her hand toward him. Katara looked at him, confused; he caught her gaze and smiled wryly.

"You don't look like a master waterbender," said Zuko, examining her smooth palms and evenly tanned fingers. Katara closed her hand and raised an eyebrow.

"The power of appearances," she said simply, silkily, and the tension that had plagued them back at the training yards returned at twice its strength.

"Your highness!" said a voice from behind the wall. Katara drew back and Zuko stood quickly, ignoring the indelible trace of awkwardness left by the interruption. A messenger ran into the garden, bowing low and wheezing as he came up. Zuko nodded to him, granting an unspoken permission to deliver his news.

"You have a message from Nobleman Wei, Imperial Majesty," said the man nervously. He fished around his outer robe for a roll of bamboo paper and handed it to Zuko.

"Nobleman Wei – the former emperor of New Ozai, now Omashu?" questioned Zuko. The messenger nodded as Zuko opened the scroll; noticing Katara for the first time, he bowed again. Zuko made a noise in his throat; Katara wanted nothing more than for the messenger to go away, so she could lean into the Fire Lord's shoulder and read the note alongside him. The Fire Lord raised his head.

"You may go," he said to the messenger, who promptly obeyed. Wordlessly, he handed the scroll to Katara.

_Your Imperial Majesty,_ began the note politely. _It has been my understanding that my daughter, Wei Mai Qin, has been granted the title of 'Imperial Consort' since the final days of the war. She has come to me with the disturbing news that you have violated the Qi Shi Qi Gai Code upon which the Imperial Vows are sanctioned. Trusting the word of my daughter absolutely, though she is female, I am called upon to fulfill my fatherly duties by challenging you to an Agni Kai; should my age and injuries be a hindrance, I call upon General Li Feng as my second._ Katara nearly choked – Li Feng was the general who had abused women prisoners at the Boiling Rock; he was the reason Sokka and Suki were already taking care of children, the reason Suki woke up at night screaming and thrashing with nightmares. Shaking with rage, Katara forced herself to finish the note. _As the challenged, you are impelled to choose the time and location of the Agni Kai._

_Your honorable servant always, Nobleman Wei Shi Ruo._

Katara could not speak; she handed the scroll back to Zuko and silently put a brown hand on his shoulder, tracing his collarbone.

Finally, she asked, "When are you going to do this?" She had seen the internal battle play out on his face, knew his honor would not let him use his authority as Fire Lord to get out of the match.

"Sunrise," he said brusquely. "The day of Uncle's Anniversary Festival." He roughly put an arm around Katara's waist, startling a squeak out of her. His pale fingers mixed with her thick brown hair.

"And your second?" she barely whispered, afraid of the answer. The Fire Lord stood up straight, afternoon sun shadowing the smooth half of his face.

"The Fire Lord has no second."


	3. Selfish

_Disclaimer: _I _do not _own Avatar, its characters, designs etc. Those are © Mike and Bryan, and Nickelodeon. Li Feng, Mistress Choi, Xue Bao and other original characters are © me, Lady Asvin.

-

_Ominous drums filled the air as the arena slowly filled with spectators. The training sands quivered with reflected sun; a haze hovered above the gold-inlaid borders of the arena as two men disrobed and prepared to fight their match. A ceremonial priest held up the Qi Shi Qi Gai scroll and began to read._

_"Honorable brothers and sisters," he read in a booming voice. "The Qi Shi Qi Gai is the code by which our ancestors created all laws and bound the people to them. His Imperial Majesty the Fire Lord has stepped forth today to settle a question of his honor and adherence to the Code!" The crowd cheered, save for two women seated on opposite sides of the arena. One, Noblewoman Wei Mai Qin, wore her usual disinterested expression. Only her sharp gaze betrayed an interest in what happened around her. The other, Ambassador Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, held no such reservations; she leaned forward, attempting in vain to see the players of the death trap a bit better. She chewed on her bottom lip, and around her, other ambassadors and their servants whispered at her shameful behavior._

_"Bow!" declared the priest; Zuko and Nobleman Wei did so, the aristocrat bowing a scant inch lower than his Fire Lord in a mockery of respect. They rose, and Katara could almost smell Zuko's fighting spirit take hold; across the arena, Mai turned to Xue Bao._

_"I want cold kanonfruit juice," she declared quietly. "Now." The old woman scuttled around the family and ran toward the palace; a scullery maid accosted her as she entered the back door of the kitchen._

_"Has the fight started?" asked the girl, a giant pregnant belly obvious under an apron and faded robes. She had the wrist tattoo of a twice-incarcerated Boiling Rock ex-prisoner. _

_"They just finished the Rites," said the chaperon, grim-faced. The girl's mouth set in a flat line._

_"I hope His Highness kills General Li Feng," she said matter-of-factly. Xue Bao paused in the middle of her task, holding an enormous kanonfruit and searching for a juicer. She looked from the maid's face to her belly, and back._

_"For your sake, child, I hope so too."_

-

_Arena.­_

-

"I am wounded!" cried the nobleman, collapsing onto the steaming sand. The crowd let out an outraged roar; Zuko had merely grazed the man's shoulder with a fireball. Because the battle was one of honor, however, the priest had to abide by the challenger's word.

"Bring out General Li Feng!" shouted the man, tapping a knotted wooden stick to the floor and sending a burst of flame to each of the lanterns in the corners of the arena. One flame meant the original challengers were in the ring; two meant the match had resorted to seconds. Katara stood, completely disregarding the flurry of whispers and gestures she caused.

"Your Highness!" she shouted, a voice among many. But he heard her; he turned his head to meet flashing gold eyes with moonstone blue ones. "General Li Feng was the one!" _The one? Which one?_ He never got to ask. "The one that destroyed Suki's life!" called the waterbender. Zuko understood clearly now why the name had sounded so familiar to him as he had read the challenge. He realized also that he was no longer only fighting for his own honor; he fought for the honor of the Fire Nation, the honor of the Kyoshi girl and all the others whose lives had been ruined by this monster of a man. He fought for the honor of the Avatar, who had brought a general peace to lands constantly enveloped in conflict; most importantly, he fought for _her_, because he knew she watched him, believing in him, and he couldn't let her down again.

_Does that mean I'm getting on that ship tomorrow? _

What if it wasn't an accident?

_Do you trust me?_

What if it was meant to be?

_Their love was strong and they found a way._

Love?

Zuko took a deep breath and turned to face his next adversary. On the sidelines, the Warden of the boiling rock sidled up to his aristocratic brother and whistled loudly in his ear. Nobleman Wei, annoyed, looked up at him and pointed to his daughter.

"This better be worth my _donation_, Jin Tei," he said shortly, staring across the arena.

"Don't worry brother," said the Warden, malice flashing openly across his face. "Li Feng was born for this." Down in the sand, Zuko studied the General; the man was enormous, two or three heads taller than him and three times as wide. His arms alone could crush a metal dinghy into scrap.

"Now would be a really good time for Toph to give me a baseline on this guy," muttered Zuko, and the ceremonial priest stepped into the sand again.

"Bow!" They did.

"I'm gonna crush your skull, _Your Highness_," mocked the giant. "With all due respect." Zuko narrowed his eyes; the sun was bright in his face, nearly obscuring all view. For a moment, the world went a blinding white. Zuko looked around the arena; Li Feng had disappeared. A tendril of fear wound its way down his spine and a cold sweat began to emerge from his pores. _Where is he? Is he behind me? That's-_

_**BOOM**_ went the sand next to Zuko's left foot, scouring most off whatever skin was exposed. It began to bleed freely, and Li Feng appeared behind him.

"Ready to play?" He sent jabs of flaming metal toward Zuko's ribs; trying desperately to avoid them, Zuko had no time to counter. Another blast of sand to his right; what was this man trying to pull? Zuko squatted close to the ground and attempted to send a hissing flare under the man's legs, only to be rewarded with a kick in the head. _This isn't working. I can't attack! _The man was too close; he continued to physically kick out and lock arms with Zuko, occasionally sending him flying with what appeared to be land mines. _I can't lose! _He gritted his teeth. _This man hurt the people who took me in!_ For a moment, Zuko let go of the battle; Katara's face floated across his mind, morphing into Mai's long, horse-like one. _Don't _ever_ break up with me again._ Zuko's mouth tightened grimly as he recalled her icy words; there was no way he could just sit back and be the "perfect prince" any longer.

"I'm sorry Mai," he muttered. Li Feng upset another land mine near Zuko's back; his tunic ripped to shreds, exposing skin and blood. The Fire Lord abruptly stood tall, surprising his opponent; the man had kept him crouching through most of the battle. "This ends here!" he yelled, and took a deep breath.

_It's a move I learned from studying waterbenders._

He extended his hands and bent his knees, settling into a now-familiar stance. The sound of the crowd receded, and the fight suddenly became his absolute center of focus.

_Just you and me. This way nobody else gets hurt._

Li Feng had ripped off his tunic and was charging toward him, for all the world like a rhino bull on a rampage.

_Wait for it…_

The sand began to sizzle and hiss, sending up warning that something was getting ready to happen. The crowd had gone silent; Li Feng continued to come toward him, grunting and seeing red.

_Wait for it…_

Sand was exploding on the far sides of the arena; whatever had exploded next to his leg before was letting loose on the outskirts of the fight.

_It was supposed to be a bending battle_, Zuko realized distractedly, _an honor-bound Agni Kai. They brought him here to mock me._ The man was getting closer; Zuko focused on a spot that would soon be under his feet. Li Feng was almost blocking the sun in Zuko's face.

_Now._

The man shot up as flames engulfed him; his entire weight seemed to be supported by the pulsating blue and red of the inferno Zuko had summoned under him. The flames grew in size and intensity, rolling the man up and about like a macabre puppet. He was screaming now, the manifestation of his pain and agony filling the air right along with the smell of charred flesh and fabric. Before the crowd's eyes, Li Feng's skin blistered and popped; his muscles exposed their inner workings to the world as their top layer shriveled off completely, a used carapace.

_He had a reputation for misbehaving with the women prisoners. They brought me to him. A 'special session', they told me…_

Zuko let the man fall.

As if time had slowed down, the hulking mass of steaming, sizzling, bubbling man floated down toward the sand, twitching as he realized his eyelids had almost completely burned off. A gasp came from the stands.

"He will live," boomed Zuko to the spectators. "But I have won the tournament." He fixed the crowd with a look, gold eyes flashing. "My honor is no longer in doubt." He found one face in the crowd. "And I have debilitated a man responsible for atrocities not fit to even speak of." Zuko bowed to the priest as medics came onto the sand, and then turned to bow to Nobleman Wei. "Our matter is settled," he called to the nobleman in the stands. Nobleman Wei smiled, a brittle, cracking mockery of a smile. The Warden, standing next to him, shifted nervously from foot to foot, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Your Highness," said the nobleman, and bowed; with that, he took his family and left. Mai turned for one last look at the arena; her watery eyes were flat, revealing nothing. She caught Zuko's eye and quickly twirled on a foot to join her family. Shoulders back, Zuko turned to face the medics; suddenly he was flying, far into the hot morning sky. _It's the day of uncle's festival, _he mused as he flew, the skin on his arms and legs and neck stinging strangely. _I wonder why I'm wasting time._ From the stands, a piercing cry parted the crowd of ambassadors. Tears collecting in the corners of her eyes, Katara felt around for a water source; she found it in a tiny well off the arena.

_Maybe I should…_

She commanded the water to her, a brackish wall shooting straight up.

_Maybe I should be the one thanking you._

From his stretcher, General Li Feng fingered a tiny onyx rock. "Pompous brat," he muttered; tossing the rock, he made a patch of sand explode. In the stands, Katara pushed and pulled the water to surround Zuko, attempting to extinguish the flames and bring him down safely.

_Please be ok._

The water left Zuko on the ground, gasping for air; Katara jumped the stands of the arena and headed toward him.

_I want to see you smile._

"Medic!" she screamed. "I need a medic!" But the medics just looked at her; the crowd was silent, staring at her, making a spectacle of herself on what most believed to be the Fire Lord's charity. Realizing she wasn't going to get help, the waterbender rolled up her sleeves.

"Aristocrats," she muttered, and brought back her stream of water; Zuko had settled into unconsciousness and was losing precious blood by the second from his skinned limbs and neck.

"Here, child," said a voice, and Katara turned to discover the kind face of Xue Bao hovering above her. A stretcher stood by her feet. "Let me help you."

"But – Nobleman Wei – and Mai- aren't you-?" she stuttered, looking at the woman.

"Explanations later. Right now, your Fire Lord needs attention."

_My Fire Lord?_

The two women loaded Zuko onto the stretcher; picking it up, they realized it was difficult to carry, ungainly between them. Katara turned to meet the eyes of the crowd; no one would offer help, and many were already filing out of the arena.

_My Fire Lord..._

"Where are his chambers?" gasped Katara, heaving with the effort of carrying the stretcher.

_Mine._

"Follow me," said the old woman. Zuko moaned, eyes fluttering open; Katara, struggling with the stretcher, did not notice.

_Look at me,_ he willed her. He couldn't open his mouth to speak. _I'm alive! Don't worry!_ But his silent pleas were no good; the last thing he saw before sinking back into a cloud of unconsciousness was Katara's face, streaked with tears, eyes squinting in worry and pain.

_Because I'm selfish._


	4. Succubus

_Disclaimer: _I _do not _own Avatar, its characters, designs etc. Those are © Mike and Bryan, and Nickelodeon. Li Feng, Mistress Choi, Xue Bao and other original characters are © me, Lady Asvin.

-

"I am sorry, Ambassador Katara." The voice floated through his consciousness, disembodied and distant. "The message is quite clear, and I have no choice but to follow Fire Nation law." His eyes were open now, trying to force the world into focus, with only limited success. "You will set sail tomorrow."

Everything became clear; Katara nodded, crying, and the stocky priest who had come in to deliver the message walked out of the room self-righteously. She sank to the foot of the bed, powerful sobs wracking her petite frame. Zuko muttered to himself, forcing his torso to move, his arms to support him, his throat to clear.

"Hey," he said huskily, throat dry despite his efforts. Katara jumped slightly and hurried to wipe her tears, moving to get him a ladleful of water. She held the wooden ladle to his cracked lips as he drank greedily, sloshing precious water over the sides; Katara tried to smile, but the tears had streaked her face and left her looking forlorn.

"You won the match," she said finally. "General Li Feng is close to dead, and as soon as he's treated they'll put him wherever you want him." She pointed to his waist. "You'll have more scars, now." Zuko struggled to pull back his covers and revealed the wrinkled, shiny pink flesh that crossed his legs from toe to thigh. He pressed his eyes closed; _I have finally regained my honor, and scars still haunt me._ A warm hand pressed against his forehead, and he grabbed it before she could pull away.

"What happened," he asked quietly. He nodded to indicate her tears. Katara took her hand back, holding it into herself as she pondered the question. As a friend, she should tell him honestly. _But as anything more than that…_ Zuko's gold eyes burned into hers.

"I - it seems as though I've violated some sort of code," she began tentatively. "Something about conflicting national interests and the Qi Shi Qi Gai, and the Council of Elders of Sozin's Reign." Zuko struggled to digest this information, finally coming up with the conclusion that Katara was keeping something from him.

"Katara..."

"They've given my hand to a Fire Nation general as a punishment for violating the code." She said it too fast, and Zuko lost his thoughts for a moment. _Woah. Wait a minute. What now?_ Katara was on the verge of crying again, and Zuko put an awkward hand on her shoulder.

"Why was the priest talking about setting sail?" he asked finally, still trying to string together a coherent train of thought. Katara leaned into his touch.

"I think - I think they said I'm to marry a General Chen in the Colonies," she replied slowly. "Tomorrow." Her mouth formed the word several times, as though trying it out anew. _Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow..._ The word rebounded in Zuko's brain like a rocket caught in a glass room. Suddenly, Katara put on a falsely bright smile.

"Imagine that," she said through her tears. "I'll be a Fire Nation bride, even after what happened to my mother." Her laughter was bitter, and Zuko knew the idea was killing her. But something was still niggling the back of his mind.

"Katara, why are you going along with this?" he asked, meeting her gaze straight on. "Why aren't you fighting?" Her face dropped like a stone in water, and she pointed to her waist.

"They took my waterskins," she answered quietly. "They took everything. After Xue Bao and I took you from the arena, we put you here. I went back for some supplies..." She gestured to her empty robes. "The Ambassadors' council saw fit to confiscate my stuff, I guess." Zuko was infuriated; how dare his council make arbitrary decisions while he was out of commission? And not a single medic supplied to his care.

"Katara, I-" he began, but she screamed suddenly, an anguished, terrible scream of a thousand tortures. Zuko moved out of the bed as fast as could, a difficult task; he had seen this happen to prisoner brides, and he knew it wouldn't be pretty. Katara lifted her robes and bent the water from Zuko's basin onto her sizzling skin; only when it had calmed down did she return the water. Her mouth was open in a soundless scream; Zuko could barely stand to keep his eyes open as the brand on Katara's leg revealed itself.

"_Property of Chen Shu Yin, General, Phoenix Rank_," read Zuko silently, as another man's symbol of ownership appeared on Katara's leg. She was close to passing out, but would not let herself before she knew what barbaric practice she had become a victim of.

"What - what is this, Zuko?" she gasped, the scar tissue rippling morbidly as the unnatural blisters finished their design. He winced.

"Colonial slave brides," he choked out. "They're prisoners of war, magically branded so they don't run away." Katara's eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted; Zuko knew whatever witch had made the brand would be executed within the hour to prevent him from tracking the perpetrators. He pressed his mouth closed and picked Katara up; before he realized it, he was running, running down long-deserted halls in the Imperial Palace. He ran over marble and onyx that had not been touched in centuries, past dusty iron sculptures and braced broadswords mounted on the wall; he ran until he reached a long, crushed-velvet curtain, moth-eaten and putrid from disuse.

"Come on... four to the left, and up..." Zuko muttered frantically; having pulled aside the curtain, he was counting the black pearls in the intricate iron scrollwork behind it. Finding the desired pearl, Zuko blew softly, concentrating heat until it grew red. The pearl sank into the scrollwork and set off a chain reaction; each pearl in the design briefly glowed red and then sank, the ultimate result being a series of holes in the form of the Fire Nation insignia. The entire design lit up brightly, nearly blinding him, and then swung away as a door.

"Uncle," said Zuko, voice raspy, as the door opened into Iroh's palace apartments. The old man had been crouched over a Pai Sho table, but shuffled toward his nephew quickly once he saw the boy's living, breathing, suffering burden.

"What happened, nephew?" Zuko and Iroh lifted Katara onto Iroh's iron four-poster bed; the girl whimpered deep in her throat, and Zuko lifted her robes to reveal the painfully blistering brand. Iroh drew in a heavy breath. "Let me get a healer. I will get to the root of this." He turned to Zuko, motioning to a water jug and pile of linen squares on a nightstand by his bed. "Take care of her."

_Take care of her first._

Zuko gingerly inched up Katara's robes, taking care to avoid scraping her leg.

_Don't do this to me._

He ran his calloused fingers over the angry red scar, causing her to moan in discomfort; using his other hand, he dipped a linen square in water and softly dabbed at the raw burn.

_Don't you know what you do to me?_

Clammy fingers circled his wrist; surprised, Zuko looked up to see Katara's face, grimacing in pain, as she observed the burn. Her fingers rested on his pulse.

_What about what _I_ want to do?_

Slowly, hardly daring to understand what was happening, Zuko saw his hands caress the back of the waterbender's legs; time had stopped but everything was running together in a blur of heat and pain and repressed emotion.

_Do you trust me?_

Katara placed her hand over his and pulled it into her; the tips of his fingers deduced sensitive collarbone.

_Yes._

Her lips opened slightly as Zuko's robes scratched against her burn; her complaint melted into a sigh as the Fire Lord traced her neck, first with his fingers and then, demanding more, with his hand. He pulled her to him.

Lights exploded all around them; not even a barrage of Iroh's fireworks could have competed with the insanity of colors and sounds and sensations ignited by the two teenagers' hungry kisses. As always, they competed with each other; elemental opposites to the end, one's kisses were fervently hot and disordered, guided only by touch. The other responded with a cool intensity, frigid demands making themselves clear through lips otherwise occupied.

They stopped to breathe; neither was aware until that moment the tension involved in avoiding what drew them in against their will. Their foreheads touched.

"Zu-"

"Ka-"

Both stopped sharply, each waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Zuko raised a tentative hand to Katara's face and moved some hair out of her eyes.

"I- I don't know what-" he began, but was interrupted by the slamming of a door behind a curtain. The curtain flew open to reveal Iroh, red-faced and puffing from exertion; taking in the two teenagers, his nephew's hand on the curve of the waterbender's cheek and the atmosphere in the room made Iroh nervous.

"Nephew," he said shortly, "you must leave the Fire Nation." Zuko's face was disbelieving, but his hand never left the girl's face. "Nobleman Wei has sold off Ambassador Katara as a slave bride to the Jeong Regiment of colonial soldiers." The old man's mouth turned into a thin line. "And he has made connections with the Scarlet Orchid recently." Ignoring appearances, Zuko drew Katara's small form into his chest.

"The Scarlet Orchid?" he asked, golden eyes boring into his uncle's. The man nodded grimly. Katara looked between them, afraid to ask. Iroh walked to an armoire and began blowing smoke into the various onyx-inlaid decorative swirls. Katara saw them turn red briefly, but Zuko had already picked her up and was hefting her over his shoulder. The girl cried out as her scar met with abrasive fabric; the last thing Katara saw before passing out in agony was Zuko's determined face, eyes narrowed and glinting with hidden steel.

-

_Council Chamber._

_-_

_"Councilmembers," rang out a weak voice. Only with the aid of a brass horn could the man's audience understand what he said. The crowd quieted._

_"We are gathered here to discuss some important information brought to the council by the Royal Physician." A mousy man with a thin, twirling mustache and nervous fingers stood before the crowd. The speaker turned to him. "Honorable Physician Guo, if you will."_

_The man was wringing his hands, but stepped up to the speaker's platform._

_"Councilmembers and Nobleman," the man's watery voice attempted to call attention. "I, uh," the hands worked together, round and round. "I, uh, yes. That is, I have discovered, uh, that our Honorable Fire Lord engaged in, uh," the crowd leaned forward to catch his faint words. "Engaged in illicit - that is, uh, dishonorable - affairs with one of our ambassadors." All heads turned to the Gallery of Ambassadors in the back of the room, separated from the Council by a thick pane of steel dotted with iron scrollwork windows. Realization dawned on the councilmembers as their eyes took in the conspicuous lack of a blue silk robe and long, wavy brown hair, smooth from attention and care._

_"As a result." The crowd turned back to the physician, who was mopping cold sweat off his forehead. "As a result, uh, the Honorable Fire Lord has, uh, become... that is, infected." Gasps were heard, robes clutched in disbelief. The man mopped his brow again, but did not elaborate. The first speaker took back his post, shaking a pale hand at his listeners._

_"This- is- un- ACCEPTABLE," boomed the man, vocal chords straining. The audience stirred angrily, revolted by their young Fire Lord's apparent indiscretions. Whispers turned into indignant and self-righteous yells, and the general sense of a roar pervaded the Council Chamber. The man on the platform raised his arms for quiet, and the din died down._

_"Honorable Councilmembers," quavered his voice. Watery gold eyes surveyed the chaos appreciatively. "It is time to take up arms once again, but this time-" his eyes located his daughter, watching from a gallery._

_"This time, it is our turn to rule."_

_The crowd stood and bellowed as one. Nobleman Wei Shi Ruo smiled wanly and primly made his way to his post next to is daughter._

_"Again underestimated," was the girl's only response._

I love Zuko more than I fear you.

_You should have feared me more._

Don't you _ever_ break up with me again.

_Never._

I just want to be taken care of.

_I stopped lightning for her._

Vindictive gold eyes slanted down and away.


	5. Savage

_Disclaimer: _I _do not _own Avatar, its characters, designs etc. Those are © Mike and Bryan, and Nickelodeon. Raihyou and other original characters are © me, Lady Asvin.

-

_What's on your mind?_

_It's your sister! She hates me!_

He sat, back hunched, in an uncomfortable metal bench. Around him, metal walls creaked an incessant and disorganized rhythm; beyond that, lightning and dark ocean separated him from all he'd so abruptly left behind. Only two other people were on his ship; one, recently hardened by Zuko's own betrayal, manned the ship in which he sat. The other had not regained consciousness, and it was she whom he watched tirelessly, ceasing only when required to take the wheel. He remembered this; it had happened before.

_He could almost see the life draining from her body. Her muscles were refusing to heat up, refusing to move; her gift had frozen like ice in her veins_.

But this time, it was not her gift that bound her; instead, it was the pain of Fire Nation culture forcibly imposed.

_Property of Chen Shu Yin, General, Phoenix Rank_.

The door creaked open, and Zuko's eyes hurt at the slight change in light. A broad figure, no longer paunchy, blocked the doorway; some distant part of Zuko's mind wondered who was steering the ship. Cloth rustled softly; the man leaned into the dark cell.

"Nephew." In a word, it asked if he was fine, if she was fine – but who could be, in this situation?

"Nothing's changed, uncle," he said in a broken half-voice. The older man sighed deeply, eyes almost disappearing into the wrinkles and shadows surrounding them.

"There is a very peculiar hawk on the deck," said Iroh after a moment. "It refuses to let me take its message. I recommend you receive it – perhaps it is of some importance." As an afterthought, he added: "And I believe I will make some blazeberry tea." Zuko turned to face the girl on the bench across from him; her forehead was pebbled with sweat, but her skin was cold as ice. Vicious scar tissue popped vividly from her smooth leg.

"She hasn't moved," said Zuko, making no motion to stand. His good eye was shadowed by the uneven light coming in from the door, but even his scarred eye revealed his pain. The girl's chest rose and fell with shallow breathing; her skin was paler than his own, it seemed, and the contrast between it and her dark hair was far too stark for his taste.

"I'll get the hawk," he said heavily, and stood; his legs refused to work for a moment, but he steadied himself and roughly pushed through the door –

And into a demonic flurry of wings and talons. He held up an arm to avoid the sharp points, but his face had earned a few more cuts and his sleeves were shredding before his eyes; the hawk whipped around and clawed at his face, something familiar about its movements but Zuko had a hard time placing it with a savage beak aiming for his eyes –

It stopped.

Landing on his shoulder placidly, the hawk extended its leg so that Zuko could untie the scroll. It was a thin paper, rather like the skin of an onion, covered in cramped, uneven handwriting.

_The ocean surges neatly under the full moon_

_Transitive, changing hands, bondage and betrayal_

_Assume the pain of roaring fire_

_Assume the healing of the dragon_

_Assume the heart of the sacred Lady_

_The full moon wanes, freedom springs_

"Well that's sufficiently cryptic," muttered Zuko in frustration. He breathed a bit of fire and almost threw the paper away but for a splotch of red ink that appeared between the lines of writing. Experimentally, Zuko breathed fire again; more characters appeared in smeared red ink. Irritated, Zuko noticed that the characters were written in some strange script; certain characters resembled those of his own language, but they were impossible to interpret.

"Uncle!" he called. The older man shuffled into the room quickly, alerted to the tension in his nephew's voice. Zuko shoved the paper into his hands. "I can't read this." Iroh had just stretched out the small scroll when the ship careened to the side; the sides of the ship were being punched in by force, and black water swept them brutally across the deck. From inside the cabin, a feral scream of pain and a sickening crunching noise were heard.

Masked men dressed entirely in black appeared; completely ignoring Zuko and Iroh, they made their way into the tiny cabin. A scuffle was heard, a hiss, a scream – and they came out of the cabin, Katara slung over the shoulders of one in only her wraps. Her captors had cut into the scar on her leg; she was bleeding freely, a strip of skin hanging grotesquely off her knee. Zuko brought himself up and assumed a bending stance as best he could on the sinking ship – _in, down, through, out_ – and sent blue fire hurling toward the closes of the men. His legs were bruised, his face was bleeding, he could barely stand, and he released a barrage of fireballs and lightning, aiming to kill in his blind rage –

They disappeared. His fire went through them, and they disappeared completely, melting into thin air as though they had never been there. He ran, horrified, to all parts of the ship; but they had vanished into the atmosphere without warning, taking Katara with them.

"_Unsanmushou_," wheezed Iroh, and only then did Zuko realize that his uncle had been thrown hard against a railing; his arm stuck out at an odd angle from its socket, and his face was tight and pale. Zuko half-helped, half-dragged him into a sitting position; the old man grunted and pulled himself up with his good arm. The sea was calmer now, though still an ominous black; the ship had suffered a savage denting on the starboard side, and its engine had been disabled.

"Zuko, how much do you know about the Scarlet Orchid?" asked Iroh, surveying the damage through pained eyes. Zuko glanced at the deck, then back at his uncle, shaking his head. Iroh grimaced and pointed to the destroyed cabin. " Let's hope the message remains intact."

-

_Doro-Doro Colonial Harbor._

_-_

She woke up to a vicious kick in the ribs that knocked the breath out of her and impaired her already-shallow breathing.

"Get up, you peasant _whore_," laughed the girl who had kicked her. "Your _husband_ wants to see you." Wheezing, Katara opened her eyes; she was on the hard ground under a ragged red tent. Her hair had been cut off; what was left of it matted to her head and curled around her ears. And she was naked, only a wrap around her waist left as clothing.

"I said, get _up_!" screeched the girl, stepping on Katara's hand. Katara tried to move and more voices joined in the laughter; her arms were yanked back by chains, and she realized that she couldn't even sit upright. Then her nightmare became a reality. She was in a dirty tent surrounded by girls – some younger than her, some slightly older – all branded as she was, but all Fire Nation. They wore ugly, plain sack dresses and their hair cropped; their sunken golden eyes glittered menacingly as they watched the ringleader abuse Katara.

"What's wrong, _peasant_? Where's your _tribal pride_?" Her bare foot hovered over Katara's ribs and she stomped, hard; Katara's world went black for a moment, but she tried to cling to the present, dragging her consciousness with her.

"Now, now, ladies," said a male voice. Katara's vision was spotted with black; she could only make out a tall figure with rough pants before her vision slid back to nothingness. "Why the pettiness?" he asked in mock dismay. "You know how I dislike it if someone ruins my… collection." The man's gaze seemed to hover over each girl in turn. "Don't you?"

The ringleader lifted her chin defiantly, but said nothing; it was clear that she would not take the blame for Katara's state of affairs. The man seemed to know, however; he walked to her directly, lifted her chin with a finger, and held her gaze.

"Oh, Juuin," he sighed, making a great effort to sound distressed. A crack of heavy hand against bone made Katara snap her eyes open; the girl Juuin sank to the ground, crying, her jaw bearing a heavy slap mark that would probably bruise colorfully. The man looked around slowly, and each girl bowed her head away from his prying eyes.

"Should any of you think to so much as _look _at my exotic little specimen," said the man, enunciating every word, "you will find yourselves either working the swamp both shifts for a week, or sinking to the bottom of the harbor." Someone whimpered but was quickly silenced; the man waved vaguely toward the tent flap and the girls shuffled out, heads down. Only then did Katara notice something strange: some of the girls were missing their fourth finger below their knuckle, and many were missing it entirely. She attempted to move her head and see her own hand, but the chains were simply too tight; they held her open, vulnerable, limbs extended in such a way as would not let her bend. She opened her mouth to say something, but discovered that her throat was too dry.

The man turned from the tent entrance; for a moment, his silhouette reminded Katara of someone, but the thought vacated her mind when he walked toward her. She tried to swallow, but the dryness of her throat wouldn't let her. Bracing herself, she was still caught by surprise when the man ran his rough hands up and down her stomach; they stopped for a moment, cupped her hips, and continued down her legs, feeling the scar-brand with relish. They ran back up, and Katara could only watch as she was roughly handled by this stranger in places that nobody ever should have seen. He leaned close to her face; his fetid breath invaded her senses before he bore down on her, stroking her cruelly and bruising her lips with his own. She sobbed silently under him and remembered the last time those lips had been taken…

_As always, they competed with each other; elemental opposites to the end, one's kisses were fervently hot and disordered, guided only by touch. The other responded with a cool intensity, frigid demands making themselves clear through lips otherwise occupied…_

Abruptly, the man pulled himself up.

"You'll do," he said curtly, and left the tent. She was alone, then, ribs bruised, short of breath, dirty and naked; the tears leaked from her eyes and she was blind, as well, for the chains prevented her from wiping them. A vision stole over her, suddenly, a vision of fog and dark and quiet; before her, out of the ground itself, appeared a beautiful woman in a leaf dress.

_I am Raihyou_, she said, but it wasn't so much her saying it as it was her speaking directly into Katara's mind. _I am the patroness of the innocent, the root of original sin, the Lady you have met once before_. Katara wanted to ask her how she could be so many conflicting things, but could not summon the strength or voice. Raihyou transformed, then: she was a stealthy panther, a priestess, a child, a mother, and then –

Familiar face paint began to creep over Raihyou's face; Katara's eyes widened as the Painted Lady stood, arms outstretched, hovering over her.

_You have earned this title, daughter, _she said. _I would not abandon you_. Katara was able to glimpse the beginning of one last transformation before the spirit flowed over her, calming her, moistening her lips and throat so she could at last swallow. Her bruises and cuts faded, the pain wracking her body subsided, but she did not feel the brand on her leg disappear.

_Do not worry, daughter, _the voice comforted. _I would not abandon you._ Katara sank into a deep sleep; when she awoke, her pain would be a memory, and she would have a small crescent moon marked on the back of her neck.

-

_Zuko's ship._

_-_

"The waning moon leads the way," read Iroh from the scroll that had somehow survived the infiltration. Zuko sat, helplessly, on the wreck of metal his cabin had become.

"The waning moon," he repeated softly. Above, a distant full moon winked back at him.


	6. Survival

_Disclaimer: _I _do not _own Avatar, its characters, designs etc. Those are © Mike and Bryan, and Nickelodeon. Raihyou and other original characters are © me, Lady Asvin.

When Katara came to, she noticed that she was dressed – albeit skimpily – in what seemed to be a white pillowcase, and that there was a bowl of some mushy-looking substance placed before her to where she could eat out of it sans the help of her hands. Half of her was insulted and humiliated by the treatment; that lasted mere seconds until the practical half of her brain took over and decided that she should eat while she had the opportunity. She was in a strange place, after all – she had no idea as to when she'd be fed again. She ate slowly and with great effort, all the while mulling through her situation, trying to find a possible way out of it.

There were several things she could put in the category of things she knew. For one, she was now property of General Chen Shu Yin, and therefore ostensibly in a Fire Nation Colony. The man had mentioned a swamp, so there would be water nearby – and perhaps friendly swamp people, leading her to believe that there was a small chance of her finding another waterbender. She seemed to belong to a collection of girls owned by this man, or married to him, or some hybrid of the two, and she was the only non-Fire Nation of them.

In the category of things she did not know resided questions. Why had she been branded and brought to this place? The Qi Shi Qi Gai explanation was a flimsy one. What was her purpose here? Had Zuko survived the raid in which she had been captured? Was he on his way to help her now, or would he have turned back to the Fire Nation to wait it out? The questions began to whirl around and around inside her head; firmly, she turned her attention to her surroundings. Clearly, she could not make any assumptions or plans until she had observed more of her environment – that is, if she could ever make it out of the uncomfortable chains and away from the tent. She heard footsteps approaching and froze.

_Oh, Raihyou, _she thought, sending up a silent prayer. _Protect me._ A flap opened, pouring sunlight directly into her eyes and obscuring all but a silhouette of the person entering. Katara was still blinded when the person dropped the flap, but she squeezed her eyes shut and forced them to adjust. When she opened them again, a woman Katara would have guessed to be about Jun's age stood before her. Her resemblance to the bounty hunter was strong, but this woman wore no makeup and for clothing wore simple green wide-legged pants and a plain yellow sleeveless tunic. Her thick, dark hair was caught up in a no-nonsense leather cord, and she wore no shoes.

"I am Sarasvati," said the woman quietly. "I will undo your chains now, and begin teaching you how to weave nets. Please do not attack, as there are guards all around us." Her voice was low and her small hands made quick work of the locks. Her attitude smacked of brainwashing, the same studied lines and precision of movement as Joo Di in Ba Sing Se; but this woman seemed more alert, more reactive to her surroundings. The chains fell from Katara's wrists and she released a breath as she took in the bleeding joints; the manacles had skinned her wrists raw, and they were gushing freely. Sarasvati took a look at Katara's hands and met the waterbender's eyes.

"I will take you to Ahma," she stated clearly. "She will take care of that. Follow me." Katara stood, her legs wobbly, and attempted to pull down her tunic as she followed Sarasvati out of the tent. The sunlight didn't bother her as much when she was leaving, and for the first time she could see that she was in a military camp of sorts. Men sharpened and cleaned weapons, studied maps, or set up tents and fires, and there were women and girls everywhere tending to the million menial chores the men did not deign to perform. Sarasvati led her through the outskirts of the camp to a wooden cabin that stood apart from the rest of the lodgings, and seemed to be the only solid structure. They made it to the doorway before the woman turned to look at Katara.

"While you are in this camp," she said, "only your husband knows your true name. It is better that you adopt a false one." With this brusque advice, she turned away from Katara; only for a half-second as the woman was sweeping into the cabin did the waterbender observe the small crescent-moon tattooed on her neck, nearly invisible beneath her thick knot of black hair.

"What-" but before Katara could complete the question, Sarasvati had disappeared into the cabin, leaving Katara alone on the proverbial doorstep. She shifted her weight uncomfortably and regarded her skinned wrists. _What was I thinking when I left home?_ The question hadn't even fully formed in her mind when a vision of a falling coronet, long, shiny black hair, a devil's smirk and blazing gold eyes answered it. She sighed and looked around her. _Zuko, where are you?_

"Who is this?" A gravelly voice interrupted her thoughts, and Katara turned quickly to regard an old woman with knotty hands and a face mired in wrinkles. Quickly she ran through names in her head; the woman looked at her expectantly, and Katara cleared her throat.

"I'm Sen," she said finally, going with the first name to come to her head. The woman studied her blue eyes and her short, curly brown hair and said nothing for a while. The rheumy eyes – were they grey? – traveled up and down her form, stopping at her skinned wrists and then continuing on to the brand on her leg and roaming back up to her neck, fixing themselves on her mother's necklace.

"Come in, _Sen_," said the woman, making it clear that although she did not believe Katara's lie, she was going to accept it for the moment. Katara followed the woman into the cabin. The structure was very dim inside; cross-beams holding up the thatched ceiling had various dried herbs hanging from them. A futon in the corner of the room was laid out with clean blankets, and next to it was a low table with a pitcher of water, a bowl and some cloth for drying off. The opposite wall from the bed was almost entirely taken up by a large hearth. There was no fire going at the moment, but Katara could see where the previous night's flame had died down to glowing embers almost invisible under a layer of ash.

"Sit," said Ahma shortly, and pointed to a little wooden banquette built into the side of the cabin near the hearth. Katara obeyed, sitting stiffly as she watched the older woman putter around the cabin. There was an old cauldron on the hearth, and as Sarasvati poked the embers to life beneath it Ahma threw herbs and spices into what seemed an ill-smelling soup. Katara shifted uncomfortably; despite the fire under the cauldron, the ambient temperature seemed to be slowly getting cooler. Her sack-dress didn't cover much, and her body was not thanking her for the ever-more abrupt change in temperature. It was when her breath began to steam that Katara's senses prickled uncomfortably. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Sarasvati inched toward the door; Ahma, at the hearth, squared her shoulders. The temperature in the room lowered considerably; herbs were freezing over, flies and other swamp things fell from where they flew or posed. Katar's fingers were turning blue, but something was off about the old woman…

A _whooshing_ sound activated Katara's base instincts and caused her to throw herself down on the frozen-hard dirt floor. Before she could stand, her eyes caught a dim movement to her left and she scrambled to the right. Looking up, she saw that the old woman was in an offensive bending posture, sending ice daggers raining at Katara. The younger waterbender rolled and ducked, finding herself on the futon. She felt for water, trying to avoid getting stabbed in the process, and finally decided to halt the ice daggers coming at her and use them against the old woman. _What are you doing?, _she screamed internally, _Why are you attacking me? _The daggers paused in midair and melted, and as Katara was drawing the water back into a whip the woman held up her hands.

"Welcome to the swamp, Katara of the Water Tribe," said Ahma, and Katara's mouth dropped open in surprise. The temperature in the room increased again, and everything that had been frosting over began to steam. Only when it truly felt like a swamp again did the waterbender speak.

"Who are you?" She asked suspiciously, turning to catch Sarasvati in her question. "How do you know me?" Sarasvati released her black hair from its cord, fluffing it with her fingers. From a pocket, she drew a thin cosmetic pencil that she drew across her eyelids with practiced ease.

"You may know my twin sister," said Sarasvati in a tone much different from the one she had used that morning in the tent. "She is a bounty hunter, usually chasing the dregs of humanity around the Earth Kingdom." Katara nodded but did not speak, waiting for an explanation. Sarasvati narrowed her eyes.

"She helped you and your boyfriend when you were searching for the Avatar." Katara's face went red and she clenched her fists.

"He's not my-"

"Save it for someone who will believe it," interrupted Sarasvati smoothly. "Through my sister, I know of you, and through other connections, I know of your whereabouts and your actions. Do not be offended that I have been keeping track of you. Few come under the protection of the spirits; as Raihyou's priestess, I have been endowed for years with the mission of protecting you." Katara remembered the crescent moon on the woman's neck, and noticed now that the insides of her arms from her wrists up were covered in tribal tattoos. Although they bore a faint resemblance to the motifs of her own Tribe, they seemed to shift with her every movement and appeared to incorporate all of the elements into one dancing pattern.

"Why am I here?" tested Katara slowly, wondering if she could ask. The old woman turned to her and rolled up her sleeves; her arms too were covered in tribal tattoos.

"Every town, every village, every city has a sanctuary that will protect Her own," said the old woman. "In this cruel, mean little camp, my cabin is the sanctuary. You have been brought here to learn how to survive in this place until you are rescued." The old woman met Katara's eyes, and their rheumy grey inspired another question.

"But… you're a waterbender," began Katara. "Can't we just escape using our bending?" Ahma's eyes crinkled at the sides and she frowned. Sarasvati sighed from her corner of the room.

"Child, I am a guardian of Raihyou," said Ahma sternly. "I would no sooner leave my post than you would kill the Avatar." The mention of Aang made Katara wince; their friendship had endured many trials, but her romantic rejection had hurt him more than she cared to admit. His infrequent letters since then had been cold and distant, and Katara wondered what it would be like if – when – she saw him again. The woman was right, however; Aang was her dearest friend, and if protecting others for the sake of the Painted Lady attached the old woman to her post like friendship attached Katara to Aang, she would not easily leave.

"So again," asked Katara, exhaling slowly. "Why am I here?" This time Sarasvati intervened.

"You are here to remain under protection until the New Moon festival. On that day, if the one known as _Feng-Huang_ has not rescued you, we must find a way for you to escape to another sanctuary, and another, until he has found you." Katara was more full of questions than ever; as far as she was concerned, _Feng-Huang_ was an unfamiliar name; who was he, and why was he to rescue her?

"_Feng-Huang_ is already on his way," said the old woman. "We must simply keep you safe until the New Moon festival, and all will go according to plan. This is the Year of the Impossible Miracle," she added reverently. "The priests have foreseen that before the sun sets on the final day, the unthinkable will have happened." For a moment, she stared dreamily at the space before her rheumy eyes; when they fell on Katara, however, she snapped to attention.

"Your husband in this camp is General Chen, correct?" Katara looked confused for a moment, and then nodded. _My husband… yes, I suppose so. _Ahma looked at Sarasvati.

"He is cruel; we must keep her out of his tent as long as possible." It was not a question, but a statement, and Sarasvati's mouth set in a thin line, replicating her twin's scowl. The younger girl nodded.

"Katara of the Water Tribe," she stated. "During the day, General Chen wants his wives contributing to his household wealth. Like I said earlier, you will wake at the crack of dawn and weave nets with me, and with several other wives. You are permitted two hours' rest in the middle of the day, after which will come a meal – usually gruel or soup. When that is over, the other wives will continue to weave nets. But you, Katara," – here she paused for emphasis – "you will come with me, and learn to dance for the New Moon festival. This way, General Chen will leave you alone, and you will be front and center when the one called _Feng-Huang_ reaches the camp to rescue you." Katara nodded dumbly, hardly noticing when Ahma pressed a vial of something into her palm.

"Put this into your soup, Katara," said the old woman seriously. "It will make your two hours' rest seem a full night's sleep. You will need it." The old woman did something very strange then; she bowed low, reverently, as though Katara were someone with position and power.

"Raihyou protect you, young _U__mi_," she murmured. "For the first time since my childhood, I will see your spirit reunited." Katara awkwardly bowed back, rising only when Sarasvati put a hand on her shoulder.

"Come with me," she said. "I have better clothing in my husband's tent." Not able to take in any more that day, Katara simply followed the woman out, tilting her head to the sun.

_Oh Zuko, _she thought. _Your culture is very strange. How did I end up here?_

A rare breeze stirred the baby hairs tickling her neck.

_I don't know who this Feng-Huang is, _she griped mentally. _So hurry up and get here first. Let the priests say what they want – I'd rather be rescued by somebody I know!_

_Have faith, _the breeze blew into her ears. _Have faith, Daughter. This is the Year of the Impossible Miracle._

From a distance, Katara told herself she could just about see Zuko's ship coming for her.


End file.
